Not Enough
by tiedwithblackribbon
Summary: Christine returns to Erik to give a proper goodbye after her marriage to Raoul.


Trudging through Parisian streets after a violent summer rain proved just the therapy needed to collect ones thoughts. More-so, these thoughts were possessive in nature and all-consuming; obsessive even. In the dungeons below the opera he could usually find solace...but not tonight. Tonight he took to the above world to sort out his demons, aligning them carefully in his mind's eye. All thoughts, images and daydreams...were of her.

He could not rid his carefully constructed brain of her dark locks and blue eyes. Even the crescents of thick lashes sweeping over said eyes could not escape him. How many times had she ducked them from his view?

No, tonight he walked alone...yet again. The wet stone beneath his boots, splashed and clicked with each footfall but he paid it's symphony no mind. The only sound...the only music playing in his ear was hers. Her voice had called to him and coaxed him out of his dark corner. So many times he had thought her as his prey...and he a pitiful predator. But it was he that was the prey now...searching for milk in honey in a world that could not give it to him. Only one could,...but she was _gone._

Gone. Like a flash of distant lightening she had been in front of him and then had vanished. It was his own fault. She had chose him...and he had let her go. Isn't that what everyone wanted? For him to be the hopeless romantic and let her go with her lover...not keeping her prisoner so that she would marry him with words of hate upon pale lips!

But, still... The agony of such a decision left him permanently damaged; pain ebbed every muscle and was felt in every heartbeat. Never had he been without pain...but this...this was something different entirely and it nearly killed him with every breath. Every breath that he no longer wanted to take.

The coward in him wanted to end it all. It would be so easy to end his own life...so easy and calculated like everything else he did. No...let this heartache be his undoing. He deserved to suffer until the end. The pain was great and yet, he welcomed it's heat...at least he could feel something other than a dull nothingness her departure had given him.

Just one thought...just one, of that boy...it was enough to nearly thaw and boil his blood. How many times did he find himself outside the gates of the Chagny estate? More times than he had realized...and nearly all to kill the boy. Never to see Christine. That would end him for good.

Did she think of him at all? Were her thoughts just as consuming and wretched as his? He had felt her kiss and looked into tear-filled eyes that final night. There was something more there...something more than pity and desperation. He wanted to believe it was love. And perhaps it had been...but it was far too late for that now.

How could his whole world be destroyed by one, insolent girl? Of all the villains he had encountered in his life...including his own facade of Opera Ghost...she had been his vice. Her beauty and angelic voice drew him in like a moth to a flame. She enjoyed toying with him in those days...promising things she would never truly commit to and dangling the boy on a different string.

For one so young, and seemingly innocent... she seemed well versed in trampling the hearts of men. But how could she mean it? It wasn't her fault that God made her beautiful in every way and for him just the _opposite_.

He could have passed by the estate...but he chose not to, returning to his cellars. Perhaps music and morphine could be the only comfort for such afflictions.

But, upon entering the house...he was not alone. He sensed another's presence before he even closed the front door. Blade ready at his side he stepped carefully into the den, startled to find a black cloaked figure standing by the fire.

"So help me God... you had better show yourself...or I will kill you where you stand." The words left his throat, dry and shaky.

The figure was startled. Black gloved hands came up from the folds and drew back the hood.

He saw dark, silken curls and he crumpled to the floor, dagger landing with a loud thud at his side. "Christine..."

She turned to face him, those same widened blue eyes with tears rimming their brilliance.

"Forgive me...I...I didn't mean to seem an intruder. I thought...you'd be home."

Her words left pink lips and he shuddered, marveling over her beauty and innocence...the lull of her soft voice. He swallowed and his demeanor changed suddenly as he stood up.

"What are you doing down here? Are you alone? You could have easily gotten hurt or worse by my traps!"

"I know the way, Erik. You taught me, remember? And yes...yes, I came alone."

A minor victory.

"You didn't answer my first question. Why have you come?" His voice was strangled beneath the urge to scream and yell at her.

"I...I don't know. I felt...I felt I _should _come."

"Oh? Is your beloved husband out of town on business or some such thing?" He said sarcastically.

She flinched at his tone. "He has business here in the city. He was reluctant to bring me along but,...he knew I couldn't stay away from this place."

"I am sure he meant the Opera. Not the cellars, of course."

"He thinks...that you are _dead_.."

"Christine...I am very busy...I...for Christ's sake why did you come down here?"

"_Please_. Don't be angry with me. I thought you'd be happy."

"Yes, Christine. I am so happy that the only woman I ever loved who is married to another man has come to visit me. State your business here. You didn't come to just offer idle chit chat."

She swallowed. "I...I wanted to talk to you about the last night I was here. I felt...I owed you a proper goodbye. I couldn't say all the things I wanted to while Raoul dragged me away."

"That's a bit exaggerated, don't you think? I'd say you went quite willingly..."

"You must realize... I didn't want to leave you."

"I know." He sighed, slumping into his chair in front of her.

"Then why did you send me away?"

"Because!" He snapped, gripping the chair's arms. "I had to! What kind of monster would I be to keep you here? I let you go so that you could live a normal life...above ground in the sunlight. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I-I thought so." She stammered.

"You _thought_ so? You know, Christine...your fickle little mind is really starting to annoy my patience. And I have very little to offer you. You come here and break into my home wanting a proper goodbye and then you want reasoning of why I sent you off with your lover? I haven't the strength to even begin."

"You deserve so much more than what I ever gave you. You let me go...because you _loved_ me."

"And I love you still. What is your point, Madame?"

She flushed at the easy admittance from him. "That...in all the time I thought you a monster because of your crimes...because of..your face. I wasn't seeing the real you. I wasn't seeing Erik. You had given me so much. I was too blind to see the truth."

"You weren't blind to it, Christine...you were perfectly aware. So spare me your groveling and apologies for any cruelty you bestowed upon me. It doesn't matter...not anymore."

She stood and looked at him, her lips parting as if to speak but she could not.

"I...I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to hurt anyone!"

"But you _did_. You aren't the dutiful little Catholic girl your father wanted you to be. It isn't humanly possible. Perfection can only be attained in music. One has to make imperfect choices in life...even if it isn't want society wants."

Her voice wavered as she whispered, "I _chose_ you."

"To save _him_." He sneered, standing from his chair to face her. "I left you no other option. He would have died by my hands if you had refused me."

"I don't believe you. I don't believe you would have hurt him."

"Oh? That's all I wanted to accomplish that night, Christine...and the mere thought of him still stirs such urges. Does that frighten you? That your poor misunderstood Erik could kill him if he stood here now? If you believed so heavily I wouldn't kill him...then why didn't you refuse my hand?"

"Because, Erik...I _wanted_ to stay with you. There was no damning ultimatums in that decision."

His breathing was heavy with anger. "You wanted to stay with me? And when I let you go...you still married him. Your lavish wedding plastered across every newspaper doesn't help your argument, dear."

"I was naïve...and...I regret marrying him. Does that make you happy?"

"Well, Christine? Are you only saying these things in the hopes of making me happy? What care have you of my happiness?"

'Erik-"

"No!" He shouted and watched as she cringed away gripping the mantle. "I have spent countless hours thinking only of you! I have to restrain myself from abducting you from your marital bed any night I choose to make the trek past your beautiful estate! Doesnt _that_ frighten you? Doesn't that make you afraid, Christine ...that I would contemplate such an act? I am a monster afterall."

"No," She cried out, struggling to breathe. "How many countless hours have _I _spent wishing for you to _take_ me! If you would have broken hinges on my balcony doors to get to me...I would have come willingly!"

He stopped his pacing and looked at her. "Is this a joke, Christine? Is that bastard hiding somewhere waiting for the perfect moment to smite me dead unaware with my own muse standing in front of me?"

"No, no..it is nothing like that. God! It took every ounce of my courage to find you. Doesn't that account for anything?"

"You are still so naïve. How did you know that I wouldn't _keep_ you? That I wouldn't force you to be mine again and never give you a chance to leave? How could you know that I would or would not hold you under the water with me in this hell and never let you come up for air again?" He said, stepping closer to her with heavy footfalls.

"Must you talk so morbid and have death so plain upon your lips? And is that your plan, Erik? To lock me in your world again?" She breathed as he came closer.

"Imprison you again within these walls? I think not. Even if I wanted to commit such a sin your beloved would be down here after you. And then, Madame, this little game of yours would no longer be in your favor."

She was crying now and he hated her in that moment.

"More tears...you _are_ giving me a proper good-bye aren't you? It is as if you never left."

In a rush of skirts she weaved her arms around his waist to his back, her ear pressed against his heart. "_Keep me_, Erik...chain me to you...I don't care! Make me a prisoner...I beg it of you."

He was speechless as he felt her body pressed to close to his, flush against him. He couldn't help but take heed to her words and dig into her hair with his fingers...finally eager to be able to touch and have no restraint.

"You don't know what you say." His voice wavered with an incredulous shudder. "You don't realize the life I would condemn you to."

"Don't send me away again...please, Erik...don't..."

He held her tight, bruising in his embrace. "If I kept you now...I'd never let you go. I can't give you a second chance at freedom. I just cannot do it!"

"Oh, God! I don't want it. Freedom is suffocating! I'll die up there in the sunlight. With _him_. Don't you see?"

"But why this sudden epiphany, Christine? You are making me mad with curiosity!" He clasped hands on either side of her red cheeks and lifted her gaze to his.

"My thoughts were burying me alive. I couldn't suppress them any longer. The memory of you...your music...I couldn't...I...It's just not enough to dream..."

"_Not enough_." He whispered, repeating her words into her hair, enduring every heated sob that tore from her lips.

"I hate myself for what I have done. I should have never of left you. I've wed myself to a man I do not love. You hate me for it too! You don't love me anymore. How can you love me when another man's hands have been upon me? I have sin upon my soul for not following my heart. I betrayed you...I hurt you in the worse way possible. How could you ever forgive my childish heart?"

"I cannot forgive you." He stated plain and emotionless. "I cannot have you. Not now. Not after that boy has claimed you as his. By legal contract you are bound to him. By witness of your invisible God you were vowed to him for eternity. What say you now of such things? When I was yours...everything was deemed a sin. In your eyes I was an abomination, and my crimes? You wanted me to repent for my actions. I cannot. I will not. I cannot bend to a God who gave me this face and this life. Can't you understand that? You were a child when I found you and you are still that child today, crying and begging me to love you."

"Why are you being so cruel? I am here now. I am here, Erik, telling you that I love you and that I want you. I want you!" She tugged hard on his jacket, gripping as if she never intended to let go. He remedied that for her, grasping her tight in his own grasp.

"You don't know what you want, Christine! If I listen to your incessant sobbing and fruitless pleading will you regret your decision to be mine in the end? I would imprison you here. I could lock you away forever in these dungeons so far below the sunlight that no one could find you. No one would hear your cries or screams. You'd be mine. Mine even after death and you would follow me into the den of the Devil. You would burn with me, Christine. Is that what you want? Because loving me is a sin...and in your ridiculous religious notions sin means _damned_."

"Then let me burn!" She cried out in a heated whimper, her body pressed so near to him that he could feel each sob.

"No. I can't let you. I won't let you condemn yourself to a life with me. You don't belong here. Get out. Go above and live a normal life in the sun, have children and dance and sing in your lovely garden. _Love your husband, Christine._" He let go of her, prying her small fingers from his jacket.

"Erik..." She whimpered, closing eyes and letting tears tumble down her cheeks.

"Leave now. Before I chain you to my black soul forever and become the monster you are refusing to see."

"No." She stood defiant, however trembling in absolute fear.

"No? No, Christine? How dare you defy me! Nothing ever good comes from my temper. People die, Christine. And recently in your name, no less. You might think your soul is pure but it is not! It is dark too. It is a shade though... a beacon compared to mine... tarnished and yet still beautiful. Yes, you heard me. Your soul isn't pure and white anymore...and I do not want it any longer!"

She was silent looking up at him, her vision blurred by tears. Her breath had calmed and only her tears proved she was shaken.

"What will you do then, with that temper, if I refuse to leave? Will you carry me above and place me back in my marriage bed? Will your rage blind you and let you hurt me? Will you hurt him? The opera ghost is dead, Erik...and it is just you, the man left behind. You are a man with a heart, a heart that can love me again like you used to."

"It is too late for that now, Christine. I cannot bare anymore of this. Leave, now...before I resurrect the opera ghost back to life." His voice was quiet but held a growl.

A bolt of electric fear went through her and she faltered in her gait. "I am not leaving you. I cannot go back."

"Your original purpose for coming here was a proper good-bye. You've made your path and I will accept it and know you have a better life with everything you could ever want. Goodbye, Christine."

"No."

He finally stood and grasped her shoulders, pinching tight, hearing her surprised gasp hit his ears. "I am warning you, child."

"Hurt me, Erik. Punish me for what I've done to you, ...to us." Her tears continued as her hands came up and caught his sleeves.

"I believe I have already, my dear...by sending you away with that boy. You've made your bed and now you must lie in it." He pushed her away from him, causing her to stumble backwards.

"You cruel, ...heartless man!" She cried out, surprised by his reaction.

"_I _am cruel?_ I _am heartless?!" He lunged forward and caught her wrist, twisting it painfully. "If I were as you say then I would chain you to this underground. Do you understand what any of that means? I wouldn't have sent you away at all concerned for your happiness. I have been anything but cruel to you...and have used up my whole heart and the blood that refuses to pump through it to fuel my love for you. You claim a desire to be mine...to be my prisoner...to be punished! Christine...you don't know the extent of my true horror."

She relaxed in his gripping hold, wincing at the unforgiving pain that pressed against her flesh and bone.

"Return to your world and I promise no harm will come to you...or him. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" His tone was eerily calm as he stared a burning void into her watering eyes as he let go of her bruised wrist.

"You never wanted _me_...not me as a the girl...you only wanted the _idea_ of me. The fame, my voice, even my so-called beauty was the only thing that mattered to you." She cried as she spoke, pausing for breath, "I don't sing anymore...not in public at least. I cannot flaunt your teachings or make you proud. I don't make you feel like you matter to the world you so readily despise and hide from. You needed me to fill that void in you. Keep to the shadows as a ghost but always present in a secret spotlight nonetheless. You never wanted me. Your love wasn't real...at least not the way I believed."

"Silence!" He boomed, causing her to shrink to the floor to her knees. She was trembling and his heart twitched with pain. "You...you were everything to me! Your beauty...your voice...it _was _what first drew me to you. But the heart beneath such a pretty exterior was even more beautiful. At least I thought. I wished and hoped it would be. But I can see now that it was just as superficial as you claim my love was for _you_."

She couldn't meet his eyes, keeping her gaze low to the floor. Tears tumbled over lashes as she closed eyes and whispered, "You were everything to me...I just never saw it...I was foolish and naïve..I-"

"You are a superb actress, Christine...you always had a natural talent for the theater no matter what lesson I tried to teach you. And yet, here we are again...teacher and student. _That is all_."

"You truly want me to go back? Back to _him_? You are going to send me away for a second time?" Her eyes still were closed, as if in silent prayer.

"Yes. Yes I must. Get your cloak." He said emotionless, stepping away from her to reach for his own.

"Only ...I won't return again. I won't come back again to beg for you to keep me."

"Well, when I feel the notion to _have _you then I ...will just steal you away like a monster in the night."

He said sarcastically, wrapping his cloak around him and tying with trembling fingers.

"Then I will keep my balcony doors unlocked." She sniffed, getting up off of her knees and fastening her cloak, little sobs hiccuping her breath.

"Christine..." His voice broke.

"Y-yes?" She sniffed again turning away as a sob caught her breath.

"Come here." He whispered in angel tones, watching as her brow lifted and she turned red faced to him.

Silently she stepped towards him, hands clasped in front of her with head bowed, tears still falling.

She felt his thumbs brush over her swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks and she clutched onto his jacket.

"Please...don't send me away. I cannot bare it. No matter what you think. No matter what you threaten to do. Please..." Her fingers twisted painfully into the fabric of his cloak, unyielding and stronger than both of them ever thought her capable of.

"Take off my mask." He whispered to her with voice soft but eyes firm on her.

"W-What?" She whispered, looking up at him in silent horror.

"Take from me my mask, dear girl...and look upon the face of the man you claim to love."

Her eyes widened at his repeated request and his intuition was confirmed. His brow furrowed with pain and jaw tightened with hurt but he was used to that now. She was a plaything to toy with now...and make afraid...

"No. No I need not prove anything by doing so."

"If you love me as you say and cannot live without me, remove it. Now."

"No." Her voice cracked under the weight of another sob.

"Such a child! I can see right through this little veneer you carry. You speak of me worshipping only the idea of you? Christine! _You_ only love the idea of _me_. The angel...not the man. So? I guess we have something in common do we not? Loving what we cannot have? Loving what can never be?" He grasped both her wrists and tried to pry her from his cloak.

"If you send me away, Erik...I swear to you I'll-"

"You'll what? Leap from your balcony onto your rose garden to your death? Spare me your embellished threats and stop being a martyr for what you cannot possibly understand."

The gleaming dagger that had hit the floor earlier shined in her view. She ran to retrieve it, holding it shaking in her hands and pointing at him. His golden voice laughed eerily.

"Go on then, Christine. Since you cannot make up your mind of whether or not you love me or want me dead...use my own weapon against me." He held his arms out as if in an open invitiation for her to plunge the blade through his heart.

"Well?" His voice boomed, causing her to startle and blink back tears.

"I am not a murderer...not like you." She whispered, her eyes dark and body convulsing from incessant crying.

"No, you're not."

"No matter what I do...I'll never be enough for you, for anyone. Why couldn't we just be as we were...angel and child? Forever?"

"That ship has sailed, Christine. Angel's don't exist."

"Neither do ghosts."

"Right. Only violent men and their rampant desires. Don't you agree?"

"I am tired of being a pawn in someone's game, Erik. Everyone uses me. Deceives me."

"It is your own fault, in the end...you hope and dream for such love and perfection...you'll believe anything to attain it. Even believing a voice in the dark. Now give me the knife." His eyes were wide upon her. 

She looked down to see that she had turned the knife to have the blade's point resting at her breast. A cry escaped her lips and she quickly turned it away from her, holding it out to him frantically. He took it gently and placed it away from them both.

"Erik...I am so frightened..." Her voice was barely there as she slipped into unconsciousness. Erik was quick to catch her and hold her to him, keeping her safe. He kissed her curls and brushed his lips against the softness of her cheek.

Blue eyes fluttered and she stretched lazily, her muscles aching.

"You're awake...oh, dear girl I was so worried." A gentle, familiar voice called.

Christine sat up startled, placing a palm at her forehead at the pounding within, wincing from getting up too fast. "No...no.."

"It's alright, darling." Raoul caressed over her dishelved curls. "Shhh...I'm here now...you must have had a spell out in the garden. The servants found you out there! Your skin was freezing!"

"Where am I?" She whispered, confused. Raoul kept his caresses light and brushed over her brow.

"Home, dear. You're home." He said gently, kissing her crown. "Let me get the maids...you'll need some hot tea and breakfast. Stay put." His bright smile lit up the room and she did not return it.

When their bedroom was empty she slowly removed herself from the lush covers and staggered over to the balcony. It was early morning, and the sun had just entered the dark sky. She looked over the gardens and lawns. No shadows or ghosts here. The wall surrounding the estate was bloody high and she wondered silently how she had come to be back in her quarters.

Going back into her room, slightly disappointed, she closed the balcony doors, leaving them unlocked.

Sliding back into the covers and burrowing her head in utter defeat, she felt something hard and smooth beneath her pillow. Fear bolted through her and she pulled the object out from under it's soft hiding spot.

A mask. _His_.

Tears did not come as she held it in her trembling hands. Fear and love ran side by side and coursed through her veins, causing a rush to her head making her feel faint again. Hearing approaching steps she stuffed the mask beneath her head once more, snuggling into the covers.

"Here you are, love." Raoul came in bringing a tray. "I sent the maids away. Today I will be your servant." He smiled again, placing the tray at her bedside.

She gave him a faint smile, indulging his presence for the time being. Her heart raced knowing of the secret beneath her head. Her heart beating only on the hope that _he_ would come to retrieve it.


End file.
